Scenes Never Seen
by Ink Stained Quill
Summary: Several little discontinuous Drabbles and Snippets with various plots, characters, and themes. Rating will range from K to T. First chapter is Rose/Ten so that's why the characters are classified as such.
1. Frozen Heart

**A/N: Recently I've had lots of Plot Bunnies but not enough to create full stories, just scenes. So, my solution was to just write short drabbles and snippets and post them up here. I might continue them, I might not, but the chapters won't be connected and I have no clue how many chapters this will be. Enjoy! **

**Oh, also, if any of you want to take any scene and run with it, feel free and I'd like it if you credit me or at least tell me so I can read your story!  
**

**Also, also, if you want to see a specific scene or have any requests, I'll take them 3**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as belonging to the BBC or someone-high-up is not mine, obviously. Plots are mine though. **

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**Frozen Heart**

The room was dark as the Doctor crept through it, his sonic screwdriver providing just barely enough light to see where he was putting his feet. He was in a dilapidated manor. According to the locals, it was haunted by a lonely vengeful angel seeking her lost lover. Anyone who ventured into the house disappeared to become her servants.

The Doctor didn't put much credit into the romantic story, but a vengeful angel and disappearing people? Sounded an awful lot like something right up his alley.

A delicate _swish_ echoed around the house and he spun, casting the gentle blue light over his surroundings. The only material was a ratty deep red curtain that might once have been very beautiful. A large armchair stood by a fireplace, which was long since disused. The manor reeked of wealth, yet an air of sadness lingered about the place, as though a tragedy had occurred for the previous inhabitants.

_Perfect for a melancholy angel_, the Doctor mused as he stepped out of the room. He stepped out into a landing, and the floor had crumbled away to the side.  
"Watch out," he called before catching himself. For all of his 'lonely-god' façade, it was disconcerting to not have a companion with him, not have someone to watch out for and show the universe.

He edged around the door frame, his converse just barely brushing the gaping hole at his feet.

When he stepped into the next room, he flinched at the bright sunlight streaming in through the enormous floor length windows. Letting his eyes adjust to the sudden light, he saw that it was a large library. The books were molding and decomposing. Spines littered the floors where they had fallen after tearing from their books. Cobwebs stretched across the shelves, untouched and flourishing.

But the most interesting thing in the room was the wall facing the door. It was not remarkable on its own; the wallpaper had faded into a nondescript grey, part of it hanging torn off the wall. However, gouged into the sturdy wood was a large message:

HELP ME

The Doctor whipped out his glasses, scanning the marks, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Fresh marks," he muttered. "Well, fresh compared to the rest of the house, and made by what looks to be like _claws_." The letters were neat, done with great patience, not desperation, as though the writer had all the time in the world as long as help came eventually.

Another _swish_. He turned around once again, and his eyebrows shot up. The door was swinging gently – someone had just come through. He peered around, trying to find the creature (at least he assumed it was a creature).

"Hello?" he called. No reply. "Alright, look. If you clawed this message here, then I will try to help you, but I can't do anything if I don't know who or what or even where you are." Another _swish_ but this time, a thought accompanied it. A soft tendril of another mind reached out to nudge his own cautiously.

The Doctor only caught a single plea. _Close your eyes_. He frowned. That was such an obvious trap line, although – the presence did seem _exceptionally_ desperate.

"I'm getting senile in my old age," he murmured to himself. Then louder he said, "Alright, I'm closing my eyes." He shut them and instantly became aware of a physical presence in the room. Instinct took over and forced his eyes open. In front of him, its back turned, wings folded, stood a weeping angel. Shock ran through him, but he took a deep breath to calm, forcing himself to think rationally.

The angel had clearly stalked him through the house and yet had made no attempt to attack – _a pacifist?_ He shook his head. No, this angel wanted him to be here, in this library to read this message. Going against every fiber of his being that was screaming at him to run, he shut his eyes once more.

The angel sped toward him, stopping only a hairsbreadth away. When he felt it still, the Doctor opened his eyes and started shocked. The angel's hand was poised beside his face, the back of its fingers near to stroking his cheek in a caress but tense with restraint.

He _knew_ that hand, had held it so many times, had been wrapped in those slender arms more than he could say. He _knew_ the curves to that body better than he knew himself, knew that face, that wide mouth that would curve into a playful smile, those lips he had touched with his own countless times over. The golden locks that had curled gently around his fingers were now frozen in stone; the sparkling hazel eyes that had flashed in his direction reproachfully when he was being too rude-and-not-ginger were now deadened. Her face was a mask of sorrow and longing and the slightest ray of hope.

The Doctor could hardly_ (refused to)_ believe it – _she was gone she was trapped she was safe in another universe with her mum and pete and mickey_ – his mouth moving soundlessly until a single hoarse, despairing, word escaped him.

"Rose…"

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**OK, so I stole the title of this chapter a bit. What can I say? It was playing on my iPod. ;)**


	2. Surprise Visit

**Hey! Another drabble :D I only have one more completed one before I have to finish a few WIPs. This one is Eight/Rose. (She's my favorite by just a teeny bit in case you couldn't tell, although it's hard to not like anyone. Or perhaps that's just me.) Enjoy! **

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**A Surprise Visit**

The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his waved locks. It wasn't the first time someone had turned down his offer of traveling and wonder, but Grace's rejection was bothering him more than any had before. That along with the persistent mental summons from the High Council was giving him a pounding headache. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the pain.

_If only I was not allergic to aspirin_, he thought ruefully. Painkillers would be nice. The pounding was getting worse, beating out a constant tattoo in his head. He slumped backward in the chair, which the TARDIS had lengthened into a makeshift bed, and tried to fall asleep. He was just starting to be able to ignore the pain when the lock of the TARDIS clicked and the doors burst open. A young girl bounced in closing the doors behind her and chattering away excitedly. She was young, perhaps twenty, and pretty with bright bleached-blonde hair and a wide smile. She walked up the ramp toward the console, digging around in her bag for something.

"Doctor! I bought you something," she was saying. "Thought you might like it, if I ever find it in here. Loving the bigger-on-the-inside but it would be nice if I didn't always lose things." The Doctor just stared at her in bemused amazement.

She finally looked up and shock ran across her face followed swiftly by confusion. The Doctor decided that now might be a good time to step forward.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said getting up. "Can I help you?" The girl turned to him, and her eyebrows shot up in. She burst into giggles. The Doctor was taken aback. That was not the reaction he normally encountered. "Hello? Hello, could you please stop laughing!"

She covered her mouth, trying to hold back her laughs. "S-sorry. It's just that you're so _p-pretty_! Oh, I'm lovin' this." She dissolved into laughter again.

The Doctor huffed, his preening abruptly halted. "I would be flattered, but complements are not usually accompanied by laughter." She looked at him apologetically. "I'm assuming that you know me?" The girl nodded. "What's your name?"

She looked at him reproachfully, tapping him on the nose. "Come on, Doctor. You've taught me better. I can't go about messing with timelines. You know that. Which one are you, anyway?"

"The eighth," the Doctor replied automatically. The girl stiffened, her eyes widening. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she said, but her face told another story. She looked as though she were about to cry. She backed away hurriedly. "I need to go. There's so much wrong with me being here right now. I have to – have to –" She trailed off, looking at him hard. Dropping her bag, she marched over to him determinedly and he wondered whether he ought to back away. She grabbed him by the front of his coat and pulled him down toward her.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it certainly hadn't been the feel of her soft lips against his, kissing him like her life depended on it. He responded automatically, his hands going to her waist. She was pouring so much love and care into him that he gasped. She took the opening gladly, and to the Doctor's surprise, he let her. Her hands had wound their way into his hair, and he whimpered when she tugged on a few strands. He began to kiss her back aggressively, slanting his mouth over hers as if he was trying to devour her.

She pulled back, gasping and looking wonderfully rumpled. The Doctor's eyes were wide with shock and tinged with the slightest bit of lust.

"You _will_ survive and you _will_ find me," she said, commandingly, tugging on his coat. "Understand?" Her tone was pleading, nearly desperate. He wanted to ask what in his future could possibly be so horrible, but he had a feeling he already knew. The one thing he had been running from all his life.

"Yes ma'am," he said, trying for some lightheartedness.

"Good." She released his lapels, smoothing her hands down his chest. "Be seein' you." She grabbed her bag, pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth and sauntered out of the TARDIS, stroking the wall and whispering affectionately to it as she left. The TARDIS hummed, its equivalent of a catcall, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow at the time rotor. She mentally prodded him, urging him to sleep, and he yawned in accordance. As he trudged off to his rarely used room, he reflected with a smile that his headache was gone. Quite a cure-all, his mystery girl.

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**Hm, yes. So? **


End file.
